And so it is
by Sawyerslover
Summary: Dean knows there is something horrible going on with Sam..and he doesn't know how to fix it. When he finds out, will he be able to handle the pain? hurt!sam hurt!dean Warnings: Violence, Language, Self-harm. Please read and review
1. Hurt

Hello Readers :D thank you so much for clicking on my story. I hope you like it! I have been away from fan fiction for a while now. I read a lot but i haven't had the passion to write. It feels so good to be writing again :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing :(

Sam 16/Dean 22

A/N: this is before everything that has happened in the show and before season one. Enjoy!

Everything happened within a split second. One second Dean was standing in the grimy doorway, the next he was in Sam's face, knocking the knife from his hands and shoving him hard against the tile wall.

Sam couldn't ever remember a time he had seen Dean this angry. His face was bright red, veins were pulsating on his forehead and to Sam, it looked as though he was ready to explode.

"What are you trying to do!? Where are you trying to go! I loved you loved me! Why are you trying to leave me! What I do if you left me here alone!" Dean screamed. Crying and sobbing, he could barely get he words out.

Dean had so much hurt and betrayal in his eyes, Sam had to look away. Dean's words instantly tore Sam's heart in two. Ripped open his chest and pulled it out.

"Dean-"

"No! Don't..don't fucking say anything."

At this point both brothers had tears streaming down their a sob, Dean released his death grip and sank down onto the cold, porcelain floor. He held his face in his hands and cried, gripping his hair with his hands.

Dean was angry and scared to hell. Demons, spirits, ghosts all these things were frightening sure, but he knew how to fight them. He knew the rules that governed their existence and he knew what to do. Or at least, he and Sam could always figure it everything they had been through Dean had never been so scared in his life until now and he didn't know what to do. He was at a complete loss in fact and that feeling scared him and angered him more than anything else. All he could do was sit there, lost in thought, lost in desperation. He felt powerless to act. Helpless and pointless in his life. There was nothing that he hated more than that. Dean knew he was failing and he couldn't see a way to change that for his baby brother.

Sam could only stare down at his brother in shock. He had never seen Dean freak on his like this, let alone cry in front of him. He had barely seen any emotion from his older brother which is one thing he had always envied about him.

_Does he really care about me this much? _Sam wondered to himself. _maybe i was being selfish. Only thinking about myself and how good the pain I was causing to myself, felt at the time. I would do anything to take it back..or to at least tried harder to keep it from Dean. _

Pulling himself from his thoughts Sam now realized he was sitting on the seat of the dirty toilet, facing his brother. It took all he had not to reach down and pull his older brother into a hug, knowing it would only make everything worse.

Dean finally looked up and with horror realized blood was still dripping from his brother's wrist. Dean stood up so fast he had to brace himself against the wall to not collapse.

"Stay here."

Sam looked up through teary eyes when his monotone brother spoke.

_He's leaving me. he doesn't care. He's so mad at ,e he doesn't care if i kill myself now. _

Dean strode back into the bathroom carrying the first aid kit. In silence, he began to he began to clean and wrap his Sam's torn up wrist, silently deciding that they were not deep enough to require stitches.

Once finished, Dean sighed exaggeratedly and slumped against the wall, refusing to look at anything but his hands.

Sam broke the silence, "Dean.."

Dean looked up as if any other sound but silence shocked him.

"I know your mad at me. maybe you even hate me right now. and I know your not ready to talk..to understand. But i need you to do something for me."

This made Dean lift his head and finally make eye contact with his broken brother. Sam noticed how red and puffy Deans eyes were.

"Please don't tell dad..he can't know Dean. he has enough going on to worry about his stupid, suicidal son."

Dean scoffed.

"let's just keep this between me and you..please Dean. We will take care of this..I will-"

"Sam.." Dean spoke, cutting his brother off, "Protecting you is the greatest thing i will ever do in my life..Please don't take that away from me. Please don't make me live without you.' Dean was sobbing by the end of expressing his anguish, shoulders shaking.

"Dean.." Sam stared at his brother wide-eyed and shocked. Then he slid down off of the toilet and sat beside his big brother, pulling him into his scrawny arms. "I'm so sorry..I'm sorry Dean."

Dean and Sam sat just like that for a while. Crying and sobbing. until finally Dean could not handle it anymore.

"Please Sam..I can't..I..just need to be alone for a while," Dean stated, slowly pulling away from his brother's grasp.

Sam looked at Dean for a moment longer before giving him one last hug and standing up.

Staring at each other through bleary eyes Sam waked out and shut the door behind him.

A/N: I hope yo enjoyed it :) please leave a review..it would make my day and inspire me to continue writing the next chapter which will be a couple days before the time of this one and in Sam's point of view :)


	2. New Beginnings

A/N- Hello readers, I'm very sad i didn't get any reviews last chapter :( but i still wanted to give an update to the awesome readers who are following my story 3 I hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: Still...I own nothing

_**Two days earlier**_

Sam walked into the room that would be the Winchesters home for the next week or two. The room irritated him. It was painted in a vulgar shade of yellow that screamed out from the walls even in the dim illumination from the single light behind him.

The drive had been long and silent. Sam didn't know what job was bringing them to rainy Seattle, Washington. Nor did he know the last one they had come from. Much to his father's dismay, Sam had refused to do any research for him this past week, on account of "not feeling good." He didn't care. He hated hunting. Hated not having a normal life. This had been the cause of his and John's fight they'd had before the long drive here. "His lack of determination". It was bullshit to Sam. Just because he hates hunting does not mean that he does not care about his family. It has nothing to do with that. His father was so stupid. How could he not understand? Even through his father's screaming, Sam stayed as silent as he could. His father's words tore him apart. Sam knew he needed something to change..to do something..Something to make the pain go away.

Even Dean had hurt him. Stood by in silence, not even jumping in once to defend his younger brother against his father's screams. That broke Sam. His dad hated him..at least he could kind of handle that. But Dean not caring..that tore at Sam like a thousand knives.

During the drive here, Sam couldn't help but stare at the weapons his father had lazily thrown of the floor of the backseat. The guns..Knives. He thought of all the ways they could hurt someone. Sam had been before on hunts, but those were out of his control. The thought of having that control somehow felt exhilarating to him..Exciting.

_Maybe i should try it..Just once.._

He knew it was bad, but try everything once right? Isn't that what normal people do?

He lifted his eyes to look at his father and Dean sitting in silence in the front seat. Slowly, he reached down and pulled a switch blade from a side pocket of the duffel. Carefully, and as quickly as he possibly could be, re raised up his hand and shoved the blade into his front pocket. Then he pulled his shirt down over his jeans to their original location, before he had laid his fate in them.

The door burst open, pulling Sam from his thoughts. His dad and Dean trudged into the mucky room.

"Sam get the rest of the bags from the trunk." His father demands.

Sam would give anything to deny his father's request. To tear everything in this horrid room, all the while screaming at his father that he is not a sooldier..and then leave. But he knows none of that is an option. he could never leave Dean. Even though at the present time he is mad at him.

Sighing, Sam walks out of the short doorway towards Dean's baby. What had his father ever given him? Dean is their dad's perfect soldier.

He forcefully grabs the bags from the Impala's trunk. instinctively, Sam looks up, knowing he would be reprimanded if he was caught showing any kind of disobedience.

Sam couldn't handle anymore yelling. He had, had enough. Has too much pain bottled up inside. Is it really too much to ask for to be happy and normal? He has had enough of smiling through the pain and trying to be perfect for his father. He knows that, that's not how family is supposed to be.

Sam then drags his feet, carrying his family's burdens in his hands.

"What took you so damn long," John questions as soon as he steps foot into the doorway.

Ignoring his father for as long as he possibly can without getting punished, Sam turns and slams the door shut with the force of his hip.

"Sorry.." Sam states bluntly.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry, Sir," Sam corrects. _God, I hate my father sometimes. _

Throwing Deans and his bags on their bed, Sam decides its time.

He quickly walks past Dean, who is at the orange dinner table reading up about their latest hunt.

"Sam,"

_Fuck._

Dean and I are going to get some food," John states. _Perfect._

Sam makes eyes contact for the first time today with his older brother.

"Get me whatever you like." Sam doesn't care about food right now.

This is perfect. Sam knows it will be much easier to do this by himself, rather than when his family is in the next room.

Sam continues his trek into the bathroom and slams the door behind him, locking it. He listens until he finally hears the motel front door close, reassuring him that he is alone.

Sam then sits down on the toilet, slowly pulling the knife from his pocket.

_Do I really want to do this? No, I'm not going to think about this. I need something to take the pain away._

Pulling his black sleeve up, he pulls the knife apart and presses the sharp side to the sensitive skin on his wrist. Holding his breath, he slowly makes his first cut. As he pulls the blade across , he smiles to himself at the sight of red trailing behind the blade. Blood immediately pours from his deep cut and Sam stares in a state of shock. He did it. He feels good..happy even. This is great. The pain of his life is now in the back of his mind..Almost lost. All he can focus on is the beautiful red poring from him.

Smiling he makes one more cut right below the first one. This times he winces at the short-lived pain. The pleasure soon follows.

snapping out of his tasty Sam realizes his dad and Dean will return soon. Standing up, he b races himself against the counter feeling light-headed. When he walks back into the yellow room, it looks different; Bigger, brighter, and not so full of pain anymore. His head is clear again. His pain lost. The shadows are gone.

Quickly, Sam walks to the duffel bag in search of the family's first aid kit.

_It's not here. It's in the fucking trunk. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _

In panic, Sam runs his finger through his shaggy brown hair.

_Just think Sam..Think._

Sam runs back into the bathroom and turns on the faucet. He smile at the stinging sensation that runs through his arm when the rush of water hits his wound. He watches in awe as the water turns red. Once the water is clear and his arm partly clean, he uses a tissue to dry the area and clean up any access blood. Pulling down his long sleeve, satisfied, he looks him the mirror and smiles. He feels good..Really good.

_OK..act normal. _

Sam walks into the bedroom and sits calmly on the flowery mattress.

_I can't keep the blade in my pocket anymore. Not after I'm sure i will need to do this again. And if im going to continue doing this, I have to work hard to keep in hidden..can't risk Dean seeing it. But i have to have it on me..I need it. I pull the blade out, pressing it to the tips of my finger. I don't draw blood, but just knowing I can, helps me breathe._

Sam rolls up his pants leg and tugs open his sock. The blade slides in easily and lies flat and warm against him skin. He snaps the sock against his leg and then rolls them back down.

_Perfect. _


	3. Worst

The small Winchester family sits in silence at the orange, circular dinner table inside their small motel room. John and Dean had gone to pick up some food from a crappy diner.

Sam, staring down at his food, pushes his salad around inside the styrofoam box. The lettuce is soggy and the tomatoes taste sour. Under the watchful eye of his father, Sam had taken two horrid mouthfuls earlier. His stomach lurched every time at the though of taking another. He wasn't hungry. Even though he had not eaten all day, he felt nothing. No emotion. Except for one. Satisfaction. He cold feel the burning need radiating from the tight bulge in sock. The satisfaction was fading quickly though. He needed to cut again. To feel the amazing sensation he had felt as he watched the blood pour from his arm. Just being in his father's presence made every bad emotion that had faded when he cut, slowly begin to seep through.

His father clearing his throat pull Sam from his thought. "Finish you food, Sam."

"I'm full, sir," Sam states, still forking his food around. He hopes adding "sir" will make his father respectfully leave him alone.

"I didn't buy you dinner so you could stare at it," Johns sighed, "Just put it in the fridge and finish it later." he motions to the mini fridge next to th dinner table.

_Thank god_. Sam smiles inwardly, glad to get up and walk away from the awkward dinner. Putting his non-edible food in the fridge, Sam strides toward his and Dean's bed with the intent of watching crappy tv for a while and then falling asleep.

Sam is halfway to fully sitting down on the bed, "Sam?" John asks, causing Sam stop and stand up, turning to face his father. "Have you learnt that exorcism yet?"

John is careful to keep his words calm. The last thing he needs is Sam insolently rolling his yes and making a snide comment towards him. He glances up from his food to see Sam irritably push his bangs out of his face.

"I'll do it tomorrow. I'm really tired," Sam said, blatantly disregarding what John knew the kid recognized as an order.

"Do it now," John ordered shortly, glaring at his youngest son.

Sam let out an exhale through clenched teeth that raised the hairs on the back of John's neck.

"I said I will do it tomorrow," Sam said stubbornly.

As Sam spoke, Dean looked up at the conversation he had been awkwardly trying to stay out of the middle of. He sent Sam a questioning look. Using his eyes, he attempts to beg Sam to just let it go and do as his father asks.

Sam ignored his brother's pleading eyes and kept hard eye contact with his father.

"I told you to learn that exorcism. You had all day in the car to do it," John said, through his own clenched teeth. I was taking everything Joh had to keep himself calm. If Sam though he was ging to win this fight, he was in for a huge wake up call.

Sam ignored his father words and shrug dismissively.

And that's when John Winchester lost it.

John was even sure of his plan when he was suddenly in Sam's face, his own bright red. He slammed Sam so hard against the wall that his son lost all his breath and began to slump to the floor.

Dean jumped up from his chair. "Dad! Stop!"

Ignoring Dean's protest, John grabbed a handful of Sam's collar to keep him upright. Shoving Sam once again against the wall, he lifts Sam up, so that his feet are barely hanging off the floor.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that again!" John screamed, speckles of spit hitting Sam's face. "You have no god damn respect for this family! Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"Dad! Let me go!" Sam yelled, staring in shock at his father. He was horrified, upset. Then he just got downright mad. He had tried so hard to satisfy his father. It didn't fucking matter. Nothing he did was good enough for him! "I hate you! I fucking hate you!"

One second Sam was staring in horror as he saw his father's arm pull back and create a fist with his hand. Sam barely heard Dean yell, "No Dad!". The next second his father's hard fist connected with the side of his face. In shock, Sam slumped to the floor, being released from John's death grip.

He felt the blood oozing from he badly busted lip and dripping down his chin. He could feel his cheek already forming into a tight swell.

John stared down at his son. His anger fading quickly when he saw Sam curling up on the floor. Hurt and bleeding. Because of him. Oh god what have I done, he thought.

"Sam. I-.." But John stopped dead cold when Sam looked up allowing John to see the full damage he had done. Emotionally and physically.

Dean stared in a horrible shock, glancing in between John and his poor baby brother. He wanted to scream so badly at his father for hurting his baby. But he couldn't bring himself to move. He could not believe his father had just hit Sam. And it kills him that he doesn't know what the fuck to do about it.

Dean suddenly noticed Sam was shaking all over- whether from reaction, shock or pent-up emotion- and when Sam moved his head, Dean saw a tear glistening in his eye.

Sam stumbled to get up from his place on the floor. Once standing he used his sleeve to wipe away some of the blood on his chin.

John silently moved out of the way as Sam stumbled past him.

"Sam. Are you ok?" Dean asked, and immediately regretted it. Of course Sammy wasn't ok.

Sam refused to make eye contact and flinched when Dean attempted to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Sam please let me help," Dean pleaded. Sam gave Dean a look he will never forget. Filled with hurt and shock. Sam gently shoved Dean back and continued his trek towards the bathroom.

Knowing what he had to do, Sam left Dean and his father standing in silence.


	4. Not Happening

Hello Reader :D Thank you all so much for the reviews, favorites, and follows on this story. This chapter is very long but I hope you enjoy

Disclaimer: I own nothing

John silently sinks down onto the bed. He cannot believe what he just did. His son must hate him now. Not to mention Dean.

He looks up to see Dean glaring at him with clenched fist.

"Dean-"

"No. You hit my brother. You hurt Sam more than you know. How could you do that? How could you be so stupid"

"Watch it, Dean!"

"No! You watch it! Do you realize what you just did!? You hit your son!" Dean screamed, face bright red.

John put his hands up to stop Dean outburst. "Dean I know. I know what I did. And I am sorry. That kid rubs me the wrong way sometimes. If he just did what I told him-"

"He's a kid! No kid always does what their parent tells them! That doesn't give you the right to hit him!"

John suddenly stood up. Grabbing the Impala's keys, he strides towards the door. "I'll be back."

And then he's gone. _Good _Dean thinks. Now he can talk to Sammy alone.

Dean called out, "Sammy?" His ears fully registered the rushing gush of the faucet coming from the small en suite bathroom. A look at the closed bathroom door sent a ghost of a frown fluttering momentarily across his face - the light was on. Muttering something largely incoherent about using all the water and with a wistful glance at one of the room's two single beds, Dean trudged toward the door.

"Sammy?" he called. "You in there?" The question was largely pointless but Dean couldn't stop it from slipping from his big-brother mouth. "Sammy?"

Dean sighed and flung himself onto a bed. "What ever.." He knows Sam needs his alone time.

Dean could cope with twenty minutes.. after a hunt he could even cope with a forty minute alone time.. So as the time ticked on from twenty minutes to thirty Dean began to worry and at thirty-five Dean pushed himself off the lumpy bed and rapped hard on the bathroom door.

"Sam! Sammy! Are you ok in there?"

The big brother in him screamed. What was he doing in there?

"Sam! Sam, answer me!" Silence.. "Fine! I'm coming in.."

Dean slowly inched the door open. And the sight before him stopped him dead cold.

_Everything happened within a split second. One second Dean was standing in the grimy doorway, the next he was in Sam's face, knocking the knife from his hands and shoving him hard against the tile wall._

_Sam couldn't ever remember a time he had seen Dean this angry. His face was bright red, veins were pulsating on his forehead and to Sam, it looked as though he was ready to explode._

_"What are you trying to do!? Where are you trying to go! I loved you loved me! Why are you trying to leave me! What I do if you left me here alone!" Dean screamed. Crying and sobbing, he could barely get he words out._

_Dean had so much hurt and betrayal in his eyes, Sam had to look away. Dean's words instantly tore Sam's heart in two. Ripped open his chest and pulled it out._

_"Dean-"_

_"No! Don't..don't fucking say anything."_

_At this point, both brothers had tears streaming down their faces sobbing, Dean released his death grip and sank down onto the cold, porcelain floor. He held his face in his hands and cried, gripping his hair with his hands._

_Dean was angry and scared to hell. Demons, spirits, ghosts all these things were frightening sure, but he knew how to fight them. He knew the rules that governed their existence and he knew what to do. Or at least, he and Sam could always figure it everything they had been through Dean had never been so scared in his life until now and he didn't know what to do. He was at a complete loss in fact and that feeling scared him and angered him more than anything else. All he could do was sit there, lost in thought, lost in desperation. He felt powerless to act. Helpless and pointless in his life. There was nothing that he hated more than that. Dean knew he was failing and he couldn't see a way to change that for his baby brother._

_Sam could only stare down at his brother in shock. He had never seen Dean freak on his like this, let alone cry in front of him. He had barely seen any emotion from his older brother which is one thing he had always envied about him._

_Does he really care about me this much? Sam wondered to himself. Maybe i was being selfish. Only thinking about myself and how good the pain I was causing to myself, felt at the time. I would do anything to take it back..or to at least tried harder to keep it from Dean._

_Pulling himself from his thoughts Sam now realized he was sitting on the seat of the dirty toilet, facing his brother. It took all he had not to reach down and pull his older brother into a hug, knowing it would only make everything worse._

_Dean finally looked up and with horror realized blood was still dripping from his brother's wrist. Dean stood up so fast he had to brace himself against the wall to not collapse._

_"Stay here."_

_Sam looked up through teary eyes when his monotone brother spoke._

_He's leaving me. he doesn't care. He's so mad at me he doesn't care if i kill myself now._

_Dean strode back into the bathroom carrying the first aid kit. In silence, he began to he began to clean and wrap his Sam's torn up wrist, silently deciding that they were not deep enough to require stitches. That's also when he noticed very recent, but older cuts._

_Once finished, Dean sighed exaggeratedly and slumped against the wall, refusing to look at anything but his hands._

_Sam broke the silence, "Dean.."_

_Dean looked up as if any other sound but silence shocked him._

_"I know your mad at me. maybe you even hate me right now. and I know your not ready to talk..to understand. But i need you to do something for me."_

_This made Dean lift his head and finally make eye contact with his broken brother. Sam noticed how red and puffy Deans eyes were._

_"Please don't tell dad..he can't know Dean. he has enough going on to worry about his stupid, suicidal son."_

_Dean scoffed._

_"Let's just keep this between me and you..please Dean. We will take care of this..I will-"_

_"Sam.." Dean spoke, cutting his brother off, "Protecting you is the greatest thing i will ever do in my life..Please don't take that away from me. Please don't make me live without you." Dean was sobbing by the end of expressing his anguish, shoulders shaking._

_"Dean.." Sam stared at his brother wide-eyed and shocked. Then he slid down off of the toilet and sat beside his big brother, pulling him into his scrawny arms. "I'm so sorry..I'm sorry Dean."_

_Dean and Sam sat just like that for a while. Crying and sobbing. Until finally Dean could not handle it anymore._

_"Please Sam..I can't..I..just need to be alone for a while," Dean stated, slowly pulling away from his brother's grasp._

_Sam looked at Dean for a moment longer before giving him one last hug and standing up._

_Staring at each other through bleary eyes Sam waked out and shut the door behind him._

Dean knew his brother. He knew he loved him without question and he knew he'd die for him if he had to but he also knew that Sam wasn't thinking about their father too. John Winchester had lost so much, his wife, his entire life, given it all up to try to help prevent other people from suffering as he had. Dean knew that as much as Sam cared about Dean, he wasn't thinking. So there had to be something else. Some actual reason to make Sam feel like he deserved to die and Dean was going to figure it out.

The bathroom door opening pulls Dean from his thoughts. He sees Sam stumbling out of the doorway. He looks as though he is ready to fall over. "Sam, you need help?"

"No." Answered Sam too quickly with a shaky voice. His head was pounding. He had stood too suddenly from the bathroom floor and as pain lanced through the back of his skull he staggered, throwing out a hand to prevent him from falling and found Dean suddenly by his side to stop him.

"Easy there. I've got you." Dean steadied him as Sam clung to him briefly, but tightly. Gripping his t-shirt in the darkness and feeling Dean's heart beating strongly through the thin material gave Sam the reassurance he needed for the moment. Sam broke contact finally having his breathing more under control, his headache eased into a dull hum in the back of his head. Sam pushed away from Dean, irrationally embarrassed and guilty.

Dean let him go, watching him worriedly and then Sam retreated to the bathroom once more. Sam splashed water on his face, revealing in the cold bite of the liquid chilling his skin. He could barely make out his reflection in the blackness of the bathroom but he was sure his eyes were haunted and misty. He was sure he looked a mess and he even tried to straighten out his hair a little bit because he was also sure that Dean was waiting for him on the other side of the door. Waiting for an explanation. Sam sighed to himself somewhat dreading this coming confrontation. He would have given a lot to avoid trying to explain this. He couldn't quite explain it to himself. He just needed it. He opened the door slowly and made his way to sit on the bed across from the one Dean was currently on. He stretched out his long legs and lean up heavily against the wall. Suddenly, Sam couldn't breathe. He's scared, scared to talk about this. He just wants it to be over.

"Sam, what the hell?" Dean asked anxiously, moving quickly to Sam's side.

"I just want it to end," came the reply. Dean put his hand on Sam's face and turned his head towards him.

"What do you want to end, Sam?"

"Everything."

Dean backed away from Sam in horror. Was he really so depressed that he wanted to end it all?

"You don't mean that," he said weakly. Sam paid no attention and stared off ahead of him. "Sam, stop it. You're scaring me." Sam didn't seem to hear him at all, it was like he was in a trance. "Sam, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

"Sam!" Dean yells, and finally Sam looks at him and his breathing slows down.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, just…"

"You are not doing this. You do not get to do this."

Sam sighed. He sounded so tired, so spent. And Dean realized that this wasn't some lame ass pity party or hot-headed decision on Sam's part. This was Sam, totally at the end of his endurance. At the end of his hope. And Sam had once been the most hopeful person Dean had known.

Finally, Sam shook his head. "Dean, you know this is for the best." Dean couldn't speak around the tightening of his throat. He just shook his head. He could see from the corner of his eye, Sam turn to look at him. "You need to let me do this. I won't ask you to do it, but it has to be done." Dean just closed his eyes, dropped his head and tried to breathe. Sam's hand landed on his shoulder, gave a gentle squeeze. "Just, come back in a couple of hours."

"Sam, shut up." And Sam's hand dropped from his shoulder. Dean opened his eyes. Still couldn't look at his brother. "Just shut the hell up. This is not going to happen. Not tonight, not ever."

Sam, again with the sighing. "Dean, that's not your choice to make."

"Yeah. Actually, it is my choice." He finally looked at Sam. "And I'll tell you why. I'll skip all the usual for now. You know, you're my brother, one of the only person on this earth that I really care about, and the only one who cares about me. Whatever. Boring family shit, right? I don't care what you say. I'm not letting you do this."

Sam looked up to the ceiling. "I know. I don't want you here when I do it. I'm not trying to hurt you, Dean…"

"Bullshit." Sam's eyes snapped to his brothers. Dean felt the fury return. "Bullshit. You are trying to hurt me. You're humiliated and pissed at dad and ashamed. You don't know how to deal with whatever emotional shit you've got going in that freaky head of yours, so you're just gonna check out. Super-smart Sammy fucking giving up? Well, I call bullshit on that, Sam. You don't do this, you don't end it all, because dad, me or anyone."

Even if he had to torture his little brother to get it. Time to bring in the big guns, honesty. "So you didn't think about how Dad would feel then? Loosing you?" Sam stopped moving, his back rigid. Dean took a breath, prepared to be cruel.

"Look me in the eye, Dean and tell me that I would ever do anything to hurt Dad. That I would purposefully try to destroy him? Tell me that I'm capable of hurting the people I love? This isn't about that Dean!"

"Then fucking tell me, Sammy! What the fuck is going on?" Dean knew he was close and he also knew that he couldn't back down. Apologize later, he needed Sam back now.

Sam broke their eye contact. "It's okay Dean."

"God Sammy, is it not okay." Dean knelt on the ground between their beds, his eyes wet. "It's not okay. Cause apparently you are doing even more fucked up things than I realized!" Dean fully recognizes his answer makes little sense, but it doesn't matter. Why Sam isn't laughing and telling Dean it's some ridiculous misunderstanding and he's perfectly well-adjusted. Except for the whole anger-issues thing, but anger makes you want to kill other people, not yourself.

"Dean." And wow, Sam is being remarkably calm. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it fucking matters, Sam!" Dean, on the other hand, can't seem to stop yelling. "It matters if you tried to kill yourself!"

Sam was still looking away. "What do you want me to say? Every time I try to talk to you, you do something to push me away."

"I know, I know I do… I just, I don't know how to do this. I don't do this." Dean made a wide gesture, desperate now to get Sam to understand.

Sam squinted. "You don't … do this?"

Dean sighed. "Talking. Bonding, what the fuck ever we're doing right now. That's what I don't do. I can't. But I'm not going to let you die." Then almost too quietly for Sam to hear he whispered. "I'm not losing you."

So there it was. Dean's real terror and quite a revelation to Sam. Dean was scared of losing him? Sam wants out, wants to die more than live this life...Dean knows that. But he's not going to let that happen.

"So if it's my time, I'd rather end it now."

"Sam?"

"No, I'm done, Dean. I don't want to keep fighting anymore. So just leave it be. Let me go in peace."

Dean rubbed his eyes. He tried to sort through his fear and anger and confusion to find the words that would get through to Sam. "Sam, I'm going to lay it out for you, okay? As clearly as I can. And then, if you still want to do this fucked up thing, well, we'll deal with this together."

"What? No, Dean, you're not—

Dean let out an exasperated breath, rolling his eyes. "The night of the fire, when dad gave you to me and told me to take you outside, I took hold of you and ran. I could leave mom and dad in that burning house, and just run outside without looking back, because I had you. You looked up at me with these scared eyes, right on the verge of losing your shit, and I told you not to worry. 'I've got you, Sammy. You and me, we'll be okay.' And from that day on, I had something to fight for. I had lost mom, but I had been given you. You and me were going to get through whatever nightmares life threw at us, because, well, because we were. And we have." He turned to look at Sam, rested a hand on his knee. "And, we'll get through this, Sammy, ok? Enough is enough. You need to knock this shit off right now. This whole hopeless-I'm-giving up crap. Its gone to far. It's annoying, alright? I'm sick your mopey Hemingway emo bullshit. Yeah. Times are bad. It's real bad sometimes. I get that. But you know what? Dad taught us not to be quitters. You are not a quitter. It's about time you pulled your head out of your ass and get over it. We don't give up, because that's just not what we do. We do what we have to and shut up about it. I'm not going to sit around while you try to fucking off yourself. I care Sam. And if you really feel that i don't then you might as well start digging your grave, because i don't know what else I can do." He stormed away, face bright red and eyes full of anger.

"Where are you going?" Sam called out. "Dean, please."

"I've had enough. You want to kill yourself, fine. Just leave me the fuck out of it," Dean spat, opening the door and slamming it behind him.

Sam flinched at the sound, sighing once more in regret.

The crippling depressive emotions swarmed their way back into Sam's heart and soul. And he knew he needed the knife again. Dean was mad at him again. He hated him. He pretty much told Sam to go kill himself. He hated this feeling, but in a small demented sort of way, he encouraged it. That way, if his brother was still a little irate about things, he might possibly become distant, and that would make the parting so much easier. He hated to think that way but sooner or later he was going to cause Dean more heartache. Might as well speed up the process. Though Sam knew Dean would follow him. It was something they'd never discussed, one of many things they hadn't needed to; it was a simple, unspoken fact. Where Sam went, Dean eventually followed, and vice versa. That's probably why Sam isn't afraid there in what he knows will be final moments. Of course, there's a split, millisecond of panic when he'd realized once and for all, this was it, but then Dean's image had presented itself before his fading vision, and all fear was gone. Dean may not have been physically with him, and Sam knew that that was the part that would torture Dean the most, but they belonged so totally to each other - were so much one being - that they were never really separated, and that had comforted Sam.

_I have to end this now. Dean is furious and maybe he will be glad to be rid of me..his baggage. It ends now._

Storming into the the all too familiar bathroom, Sam leans to pull the knife from his sock in one swift motion. Slamming the door behind him and locking it. Sam turns and ends up staring straight into the person he has become. He rips the bandage from his arm. Sleeves pulled up, poorly tended cuts on his wrist showing, dark bags under his eyes..He stands and stares for a minute..Maybe five. Time is irrelevant to Sam now. He knows it will all be over soon anyway.

Pounding was all he could hear. Sadness and anger was all he could feel. Cutting was all he could think about. It was a part of his mind, his body, his soul..It was an addiction. It had pulled him in so deep, he was addicted like it was fucking heroin. Immense throbbing pulsed and rang throughout his ear cavities, reminding him of the constant battle he had with himself. Raging inside him. He was tired. And now it was time to get it over with.

Placing the knife on his wrist, Sam reopens every scab on his arm first. Then he places it vertically at the very top of his wrist and begins to drag it down his arm. He digs the knife deeper then he has before and actually cries out at the feeling. It hurts. Really hurts. But he can barely feel it. Inside he is happy. He knows this is what's right and what needs to happens. Dark blood immediately pours from the large gash. Sam is suddenly hit with light headedness. Breath coming in short gasp he moves the knife to his other arm with a shaking hand. He barely is able to make the knife steady as he places it against his arm and drags it downward. Sam is shaking all over. The knife suddenly drops to the floor and his vision goes blurry.

He felt hot all over, and the room began to tilt but Sam pays it no mind, he looks at himself in the mirror and smiles one last time at reflection out of sheer stupidity.

He knew he was done for…

He grips the sink tighter as he feels his knees weaken beneath him, he sways back and forth and his head clashes with the mirror

"Dean!" He tries to yell.

But then everything goes black.

Dean was on his second round walking around the motel. The Imapala was still gone. His father was probably at a bar drinking away his problems.

Dean didn't mean those things he had said to Sammy. But he was worried. And scared. More scared than he had ever been in his life. He has to get back to Sammy. To apologize and make things right. He speeds up and pretty much runs the rest of the way to their motel room. Once he is there he sighs before he open the door. The room is empty. The bathroom door closed.

Oh god.

He ran for the door, trying the handle. "Sam?" he called frantically, eyes widening when the door wouldn't open. Sam had locked the door, then.

"Sammy, answer me!" he demanded, trying to keep calm. He had to get the door open. That was the first thing he needed to do. Sammy, don't do this to me. Please don't do this. Oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgod...

He should've known. He should have known Sam would do this when he was gone. _FUCK!_

"Sam!" Dean shouted, pulling at the handle. "Open the door, or I swear to god I'll knock it down if I have to!"

"Oh god," Dean whimpered, refusing to give into the hysterical sob that was threatening to overwhelm him. "Don't do this Sammy don't do this-"

"Sam?!" Dean called out to his brother through the closed door yet again.

Dean stepped back and threw his body into. With a crack, the crappy door burst open. And there it was. His baby brother laying on the cold tile floor, blood surrounding the lower half of his body, still leaking from his wrist. Dean has never in his life reacted as fast as he did in this moment.

As Dean reached Sam's side, realisation struck him like a sledge hammer. There was the knife, one that Dean recognized as being from their duffel, laying beside Sam. Also Sam was bleeding profusely from a head wound. Probably a result from the crack in the mirror.

"Sam! Shit! Sammy!" Dean exclaimed in horror at the sight before him, his first thought was that Sam was dead, that he'd screwed up so badly, not seen how bad what was happening to his brother, and now his baby brother had killed himself. But then Sam's chest rose, he was still alive.

_Oh thank god_. Dean thought as he scrambled down onto his hands and knees beside Sam, trying to asess his condition, ignoring the emotions and pain that threatened to drown him.

"Sam.. Sammy?" Dean yelled, screamed, slapping his brother harshly across the face. "SAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" It was a moan.. a desperate cry.. a plea.. whether to heaven or to hell it didn't matter.

Dean's eyes fall to Sam's wrist and there, right there, bathroom light, is a perfect little line, cut diagonally from the bottom of Sam's hand to a spot several inches up his forearm. It's straight and neat and practically fucking surgical in it's preciseness.

Dean grabs the pink towels the hotel provides from their hanging spot and wraps them around his brother's bloody wrist. Dean lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Once he's sure that the blood flow has slowed, Dean fishes his cellphone out of his pocket, and dials 911.

"Hello, how may I help you?" An emergency services operator answers the phone.

Dean can't believe the words coming out of his mouth as he says. "My brother slit his wrists. I found him in the bathroom ...There's so much blood."

In a calm tone, the woman on the other end of the phone asks. "Does he have a pulse?"

"Yeah, but it's pretty weird, really slow and weak." Dean tells her, turning around so that he can see Sam.

"Okay sir. I'm going to send an ambulance. What's your address?"

Dean pauses for a moment to remember what their latest motel is actually called, then answers. "Room 6, Wood Acres Motel."

"Okay. The ambulance will be there soon." Dean hangs up the phone as soon as the words leave her mouth, and turns back to his brother. He hates how still Sammy is.

Barely controlling his panic at seeing his brother in such a state. "Why did you do this Sammy?"

Dean stays sitting right there, keeping pressure on both his arms, whilst talking mindlessly to Sam, anything he can think of to avoid the reality, Sam tried to kill himself, and if Dean hadn't gotten back when he did, Sam might have died, he still could.

_Oh god Sammy. What did you do? I should have been here! I'm so sorry Sammy. Please don't die._

Just as Dean hears a siren in the distance, the faint, but reassuring sound of Sam's breathing comes to a halt. "Sam!" Dean shouts, shaking Sam's limp body.

Realizing that Sam is going to die if he doesn't do anything, Dean starts doing mouth to mouth resuscitation, and doesn't stop until there is a knock on the door.

Dean jumps up, and runs to open the door, and then leads the paramedics back over to his brother.

As one of the paramedics, places a mask over Sam's face, and forces much needed oxygen into his lungs, she asks Dean. "How long ago did he stop breathing?"

"...Maybe a couple of minutes. I did mouth to mouth." Dean tells them, unable to look away as the other paramedic, starts IV lines in both Sam's arms, above the slits, and pushes in as much saline solution as possible, while he retrieves a laryngoscope, and an endotrachial tube from one of the kits.

"Claire?" The male paramedic asks.

"That's good, Mike." Claire says reassuringly as she takes away the mask, and skillfully puts in the breathing tube, before reconnecting the am bu bag to the tube, and squeezing it to give Sam oxygen.

Mike brings over a gurney, and he and Claire gently, but quickly lift Sam onto it, and begin moving towards the door. "We need to get him to the hospital fast, he's lost a lot of blood." Claire turns briefly to look at Dean, who is still standing by the bathroom door, too shocked to move.

Mike takes over maneuvering the gurney down to the ambulance, while Claire grabs a blanket off one of the beds, and wraps it around Dean as she guides him gently over to the ambulance.

In the ambulance, Dean rides in the back with Sam, watching as Claire monitors Sam, and pushes medications into his broken body.

While working on Sam, not looking up, Claire asks Dean. "What's his name? And yours?" After she realizes she doesn't know.

Dean thinks for a moment, he can't think of which alias they have been using, so he simply answers. "Sam. And I'm Dean."

_They're just kids, where are their parents? _"Can we call your folks?"

_God how is dad going to handle this? _Dean thinks bitterly, before replying. "I'll call him when we're at the-"

Dean's sentence stops abruptly as the monitors start to shriek, and Kate calls out to her partner. "He's crashing!"

A/N Please review :)


	5. I need you

Hello readers :D I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter..sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger, but I tried to update as soon as I could. Please review :) Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Claire motions for Dean to move back as she grabs the defibrillator, charges them, and presses them to Sam's chest to deliver an electrical shock to his heart.

She then looks over at the monitors. No change. "Step on it, Mike, this kid needs to be in the hospital, now!"

Dean watches helplessly as Claire shocks his brother's body again. He can't stop the tears, as he asks Kate. "What's happening?"

"Sam's heart stopped, probably because of the blood loss. I've gotten it started again, but he's still in critical condition." She replies after a moment, and before she does, she calls out to her partner. "He's back into sinus rhythm."

Dean hears her reassuring words, but all he can think is.

_How could I let this happen?_

_Why did he do this?_

_Could I have stopped it?_

_Is he gonna die?_

A million thoughts race through the Winchester's head as he stares down at his brother's motionless body. He looks so pale. Sam isn't supposed to look like that. Ever. Dean should have stopped this. He shouldn't have let it get this far.

They arrive at MedStar Medical Center, about five minutes later. The paramedics rush Sam straight into a treatment room.

Dean is running alongside the gurney, holding Sam's hand. "It's ok, Sam. I'm here."

Dean continues to try to follow, but an orderly help a nurse hold him back.

Dean kicks out, and tries to get away from them. "Let me go! I've gotta stay with Sam!"

Obviously, the staff is used to this sort of thing, and the nurse calmly tells Dean. "Calm down. You need to take a seat in the waiting room, and as soon as Sam is stable, someone will come get you. But if you don't settle down, you will have to leave."

The threat of being taken even further away from his brother does the trick, and Dean stops fighting.

The nurse motions to the orderly to release him, and step back as she asks. "What's your name kid? Where are your parents? I'll need to call them."

"Already told the 'medics, name's Dean, and I'll call my Dad." Dean says shortly. Why does this matter when his brother is lying in a hospital after trying to fucking kill himself?!

The nurse is surprised by his attitude, but keeping calm, she says. "Okay. If you want to come with me, you can use the phone at the desk."

Dean merely nods, which is pointless because he has a phone. But all Dean can focus on is Sam so he follows her over to the nurses' station. She hands him a phone, and he quickly types the motel room that is filled with horrible memories.

John answers after several rings. "Yeah?"

Dean can tell straight away that John wants nothing to do with what happened. "Dad. Um..." At this moment all Dean wants to do is cry, and beg his father to come to the hospital and take care of everything, but after taking a breath to calm himself, Dean says. "You need to come, Dad-"

John interrupts his son, he is at a bar , just wants to be left alone and doesn't want to hear about whatever Dean is calling about. Dean probably wants to talk more about what happened earlier. "I'm busy, Dean. Can't you handle whatever's going on?"

Dean doesn't know how else to get through to his stubborn bastard of a father, so he simply tells him. "We're at the hospital. Sam tried to kill himself, Dad."

"What?" John questions. He must have heard wrong, Sam would never do that.

Dean sighs sadly as he repeats. "Sam tried to kill himself."

Dean can hear John put the phone down, and swear a lot before coming back on the line. "How?"

"I found him in the bathroom, he slit his wrists. There was so much blood, Dad. And I can't believe I didn't notice before, but he's gotten really thin Dad, really thin. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen. And then i went for a walk and-"

"What! Why would you leave him alone?"

"Dad-"

"Damn Dean, I thought you could take care of him." John says, the disappointment clear in his voice.

"Are you kidding me? You know one of the reason he did this-"

"Dean. Don't start. What hospital are you at?"

"MedStar Medical Center, it's near our motel."

"I'll be there soon, Dean." John says quickly before hanging up.

As Dean hears the call end, he turns around to face the nurse, and tells her. "He'll be here soon."

"Good." She replies simply, hiding her true opinion - these boys are just kids, what's their dad doing leaving them alone?

Dean then asks. "Can I see Sammy now?"

The nurse thinks for a moment before answering. "I'm not sure. How about you go to the waiting room, I'll go check on how Sam is doing? If his doctor agrees, I'll take you to see him."

_Not like I really have choice here_. Dean thinks before replying. "Fine." And following the nurse to the waiting room.

It takes over an hour and a half for the nurse to return, and by then Dean is looking about ready to kill the next staff member who walks through the doors without news on his brother.

The nurse walks over to Dean, and tells him. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Dean. We're very busy today." She takes a seat, and motions for Dean to sit beside her, being as exhausted as he is, Dean sits down. "I spoke to our pediatric intensivist, Dr Wilkes; he's overseeing Sam's care. Sam has been moved upstairs to the pediatric intensive care unit."

"Intensive care?" Dean asks weakly. My brother's in the ICU! How could I have screwed up so fucking badly?!

The nurse looks at Dean sympathetically. "Yes. He lost over half his total blood volume, and that caused his heart to stop, twice. They've stabilized him, but Sam is still in an extremely critical condition. He's lucky to be alive."

Dean can only nod in acknowledgement.

"You can go see him if you like, but only for a minute."

Again, Dean nods. He then follows the nurse towards the elevators.

About five minutes later, Dean reaches the nurses' station, and is promptly introduced to Sam's nurse, Alex. She then takes him into a small family room, and sits down with him. "Dean, I just wanted to take a minute to speak with you before you go see Sam."

Dean says nothing; he still can't believe what's happened.

Alex then tells him. "Sam is in a critical condition. He can't breathe for himself, so he's currently on a ventilator, but if he doesn't have any complications, he shouldn't be on that for long. And there is a number of other machines and pieces of medical equipment in Sam's room, try not to worry about it, it is all there to help him."

All Dean wants to do, all he needs to do, is see Sam, to apologize for not helping Sam sooner. "Can I see Sam now?"

Alex nods, and stands up as she says. "Sure, follow me."

Spnspnspnspnspnspnspnspnspns pnspnspnspnspnspnspnspnspnsp nspnspnspnspnspnspnspn

John stops at the motel before going to the hospital. Upon entering the room, John is stunned at the sight before him. Blood is everywhere, the carpet outside the bathroom is soaked, and generally the whole room is filthy. John is suddenly hit with a pang of guilt. _Did i cause Sam to do this?_ _Damn kid! Does he think at all before he does something stupid?!_

He doesn't even bother going into the bathroom, he just grabs a bottle of whiskey, sits down at the table, and drains what's left of the bottle in just a few gulps before walking back out of the room. Cursing his sons under his breath as he does so.

John arrives at the hospital about ten minutes later, Dean is sitting in the pediatric intensive care waiting room, still dressed in the soaked, bloodied clothes he was wearing when he found Sam. He's fighting not to fall asleep, even though his body is craving rest.

John strides into the room, and angrily stands in front of Dean, who hasn't even noticed him, and says. "Dean."

Dean jumps in surprise; he hadn't even heard John walk up to him. He then turns to look at his father, trying not to turn away when he's assaulted by the strong smell of alcohol on his breath, not for the first time in the past couple of years. "Dad." His voice is hoarse, John figures that he has been crying, but even that doesn't make him understand the severity of the situation.

"How long is this going to take? I need to get back to the hunt." John questions heartlessly.

Dean hates his dad when he is drunk. John doesn't seem to care about anything right now. He sighs sadly, tiredly, as he answers. "Sammy's in the ICU, he isn't going anywhere soon." Then, gaining strength, and anger at his father's lack of concern, Dean stands up, and yells at his father. "How can you even think about a hunt now?!"

"People are dying, son. It's more important than Sam's little stunt."

Upon hearing this, Dean is seeing red. "How can you even fucking say that?!" He shoves John as he says. "Your son tried to kill himself, he is in the ICU, not even able to breathe for his goddamned self! And you think this was just to get attention!?"

John is furious at Dean. _How dare he?! _And in a fit of rage, he pushes Dean to the floor, and doesn't even notice when he doesn't get back up, as he storms over to the nurses' station, and demands to see his child.

The nursing staff, unaware that he anything more than a worried parent, let him straight through. And a moment later, John is standing at his youngest son's bedside.

He is taken aback by the sight of the ventilator, and various pieces of medical equipment surrounding the bed, but in his rage he can't stop to think that Sam could have done this for a much more serious reason than attention seeking.

John pulls a chair up to the bed side, and settles in for a long wait. The moment Sam wakes up, he's going to hear exactly what John thinks about this.

Spnspnspnspnspnspnspnspnspns pnspnspnspnspnspnspnspnspnsp nspnspnspnspnspnspnspn

Dean is shocked that his father just pushed him, but that is typical drunk John. Walking outside, Dean retrieves his phone from his pocket. He dials the number of the one person who has been a parent to him and Sammy more than John.

A gruff voice answers, "Bobby Singer."

"Bobby."

The old man must have heard the shakiness in Dean's voice. "Dean. What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"No." Dean states, tears forming in his eyes. How did this happen? How did everything get so fucked up?

"Dammit, Dean. Tell me what's wrong? Did something happen to Sam?"

"Yes," Deans chokes out, now sobbing. "It's bad, Bobby. Please come."

"Isn't your dad there?"

"Yes..but..Please, Bobby. We are at the MedStar hospital."

_Shit_. "Alright, son. I'll be there as soon as I can." Bobby hangs up the phone, knowing exactly where they are due to speaking with John a few days ago. Sam and Dean are like sons to Bobby. If something happened, he needs to be there. Especially, if it's something that Dean seems to want him to take care of more than John.

Spnspnspnspnspnspnspnspnspns pnspnspnspnspnspnspnspnspnsp nspnspnspnspsnspnspnsp

When Dean finally returned to the room John was gone. Probably went to drink again. Dean couldn't care less right now. All he cares about is Sam.

Dean is pulled from his thoughts when Sam suddenly moans. Dean's hand was on his forehead, a familiar warmth and pressure that Sam couldn't help leaning into. "Sam. Hey," he said, relief heavy in his voice. "Sam, don't try and talk, okay? They'll get the breathing tube out before you know it, man, you just need to hang tight. You're gonna be okay, all right? Sam. You hearing me? Don't talk, don't move your head, just squeeze my hand if you're with me."

That's when he realized his hand had been in Dean's the whole time, Dean's hand solid and secure around his. He gripped Dean's hand hard feeling hot tears slide down his cheeks.

"Sam. Hey, come on. Open your eyes for me."

Obediently, miserably, Sam opened his eyes and looked up at Dean. Dean looked so pale, with dark, tired circles under his eyes, but he smiled down at Sam.

Sam opened his mouth to apologize and immediately gagged on the tube in his throat. He tried to bring his hands up on reflex, but found that his wrists were restrained to the sides of the bed to keep him from unconsciously pulling at the tube, and panic surged through him. He heard the beeping of the monitors increasing around him. A wave of horror crashed down on him and suddenly he wasn't there anymore, he was—

Dean watches as his brother looses his conciousness yet again.

It is early the next morning before Sam begins to regain consciousness again. Dean is resting in an uncomfortable armchair in the corner of the room, the strain of the past day having caught up with him.

The first thing Sam is aware of as he wakes up is a tube protruding from his mouth, he panics, he can't breathe.

He tries to pull out the offending tube, but quickly is reminded that his arms are tied down.

Within seconds, Dean appears at his side. He must have heard Sam struggling. Dean takes Sam's hands in his, and reassuringly tells him. "Calm down, Sam. You're alright, just relax."

Dean continues to soothe Sam until Alex and a doctor hurry into the room a minute later.

"I'm going to take the tube out now but I'm going to give you something to help with any discomfort," she explained, reaching for a vial, and Sam eyes dart to his brothers suddenly gone wide with fear.

"Let's skip the meds," Dean practically begs.

"But-"

"He'll be fine. Please."

Reluctantly, she set the vial down. She moved Sam's bed into an upright position. "This will be over in just minute," she assured him, releasing the strap that held the tube in place and easing it forward.

"Eyes on me, Sam," Dean said. Sam's eyes latched on to Dean and didn't let go.

About five minutes later, they are alone again, and Sam is free from the ventilator, but still held firmly by the restraints. Sam can tell that they've given him some pretty strong medications, and they're making it hard for Sam it think.

_Why am I here?_

_I know I should remember._

_Damn it!_

Sam looks up at his brother, and when he sees tears in his eyes it only adds to his panic_._

_What happened?_

_Did something go wrong on a hunt?_

_No, we haven't been on a hunt in months._

_Then what-_

He'd fucked up. In so many unforgivable ways, but this was perhaps the worst, the final and most despicable show of weakness. If he hadn't been certain he deserved to die before, he was now.

Suddenly, assaulted by realization and memories, Sam pitches forward, and throws up all over the bed.

Sam is so hysterical by the time Alex comes running back into the room, that she is forced to administer a sedative. Once Sam has slipped back into unconsciousness, she begins to strip away the bed sheets, as she asks Dean. "What happened, Dean?"

Dean, who is still standing by Sam's bedside, looks over at Alex with a slightly panicked look on his face. "I don't know." I seem to be saying that a lot lately. "I didn't say anything, he didn't either, then he just..." He trails off, and then in a tired, broken tone, he adds. "I don't know why."

Seeing Dean's distress, Alex stops what she is doing, and goes over to Dean. "It's alright, Dean. Sam is going through a lot right now, he needs time to process it, and while he's doing that, it's expected that he'll have difficult times."

"But what am I supposed do?" Dean asks with sadness clear in his voice, he hates that Sam is suffering so much, and he doesn't know how to help, what happened to Sam that was so bad that it ended up like this?

"Just be here for him, listen to him, and comfort him-" Alex is suddenly interrupted.

Sam sits bolt upright in the bed, crying out in terror.

Dean goes straight to his side, and unknowing of the nature of Sam's nightmare, he wraps his arms tightly around Sam's shaking body.

Sam practically jumps through the ceiling, crying out. "Get away! Don't touch me!" And then with the fear and desperation even clearer in his voice, he says. "Please let me go, please."

Despite his surprise, Dean complies, he lets go of Sam, and backs away from the bed a couple of metres before saying. "Sammy? What's wrong? It's just me, Dean."

Sam ignores him for a moment as he fights to control his breathing, but once he's marginally calmer, Sam looks over at Dean, and almost as if he was expecting someone else, he says. "Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me, Sammy. Just calm down, it's alright." Dean soothes, as he cautiously moves closer to Sam again.

Now realizing that it is only his brother, Sam can calm himself down. He then, quite meekly says with a rough voice. "Sorry, bad dream."

"Figured that." Dean says before he suddenly asks. "Did it have anything to do with what happened?" Not quite ready to say the words of what happened out loud in front of Sam.

"No." Sam replies a little too quickly, and under Dean's glance he changes his answer. "Maybe."

As Dean sits down on the edge of the bed, carefully watching that Sam is alright, he notices in the corner of his eye that Alex is leaving them alone.

Once he's seated, Dean works up the courage to ask. "Sammy, can you tell me why you did it? Please."

Sam looks at Dean angrily, and says. "So now you care?! Where were you when-" Sam stops himself mere seconds from revealing his awful secret. Dean can tell that Sam was about to say something, but suddenly Sam looks up in fear. The look in his eyes is a mix of relief and fear.

"Hey, kiddo." A gruff voice says from the doorway.

A/N Please review :D


	6. Can't do this

Hello readers! :D I am so sorry it has been awhile since I updated this story, but here's chapter 6 and I have most of chapter 7 written so it will be up soon. As always thank you so much for all the reviews, favorites and follows. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing :(

"Hey, boys," Bobby says, with a small, tight smile.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean greets and looks over at Sam. Sam's eyes widen and Dean can tell by the look on his face that he's upset with him because he obviously told Bobby what happened.

Bobby slowly walks over to the hospital bed and scoots up a chair on the opposite side of Dean. He takes a minute to look Sam over. His eyes travel from the foot of the bed, over Sam's bony legs, to the IV in his arm, and then to the horrible bandages wrapped around his wrists, and ending on Sam's face.

Bobby sighs. "What were you thinking you idjit?"

Sam immediately rolls over towards Dean. His eyes meet Deans and silently begs him to make Bobby leave. He doesn't want to talk about what happened. To embarrass himself.

Bobby lays a rough hand on Sam's shoulder. "Hey, I'm talking to you. I came all the way here. Talk to me, boy."

"What?" Sam sighs, rolling back to face Bobby.

"What?!" Bobby questions with a horrified look on his face."What the hell did you do this for? I'm not your father, but we have a lot to deal with- Saving lives, killing evil. Too much to deal with, without having to worry about one of our own. What would even make you think this was an option?"

"You wouldn't understand," Sam states, bluntly.

"I wouldn't? No, I don't think you understand, Sam. Do you have any idea how much it would hurt me and your dad to lose you?" He points at Dean, noticing that the older Winchester has tears forming in his eyes. "Do you realize how much it would hurt your brother?!"

Bobby runs his hand over his face and takes a deep breath in attempt to speak calmly. "At least you've got your family, boy. You know what I have? An empty house. You don't think I've wanted to put the gun to my head more than a few times? You should be thinking about hunting and maybe even girls from time to time. You need to be strong, Sam. We need you to be strong. Your brother needs you."

Sam looks up at Bobby. Tears running down his face. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize to me. I understand if you don't want to talk. But if you need anything, you know you can come to me."

Exchanges nods with Dean, Bobby leaves the room. Sam rolls over to lay on his back. His breath is coming in short gasps and large tears are running down his face.

"You ok, Sammy?" Dean ask, pushing away Sam's bangs from his eyes and thumbing some of his tears away.

Sam sniffles and leans into his brother's touch. "I don't know."

Dean takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. "Bobby's right, Sammy. Loosing you would kill me. Literally. If you were gone, I would soon follow."

"Dean-"

"No, Sammy. Let me talk. I'm not mad at you. I want you to know that. I'm sorry if I said anything before that hurt you. That made you want to-"

"Dean, this is not your fault. You really have to stop doing that," Sam states, chuckling lightly.

"Stop doing what?"

"Trying to take the blame for things when they aren't your fault. It's not because of you."

"I want to understand, Sammy. But I'm not going to make you talk about this now. You have been through too much. But we will have to talk soon."

"I know."

"I'm..I can't do this without you, Sam," Deans says, with a shaky voice.

"Dean.."

"I'm serious, Sammy. What do I have to live for if my pain in the ass little brother isn't around?"

"You have dad..and Bobby."

"They don't mean as much to me as you do, Sammy."

The door clicking open cause both boys head to turn. "Dean, can I have a minute alone with Sam?" John asks, holding the door open. Obviously, not giving Dean a choice.

Sam gets an upset look in his eyes and grabs Dean's shirt when he goes to stand up.

"It's ok, Sammy. I'll be back soon," Dean assures, giving Sam an attempted smile.

John makes his way into the room and sits in the chair next to Sam's bed.

Dean turns to look at his brother one last time, as if to make sure he will be safe, and walks out the door.


	7. Too Late

Hello readers :D i know it has been awhile since i posted but I was enduring a painful writer's block. It has eased up so I will be posting more soon :D I know this chapter is a little short but I really hope you still like it! Enjoy :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing :(

"How long ago did this start, Sam?" John questioned, fear evident on his face. He didn't want to know how long his son had been trying to off himself, but he had too. God, if Mary could see him now, sitting in front of Sammy in a hospital bed that he put himself in. This would have never happened if she was here.

"A couple of days ago," Sam answered, picking at the stitching on the blanket laying over him. He looks up at his father and notices that John is staring at the bandages wrapped around Sam's arms. Sam looks down as well and then moves them to hide underneath the blanket.

"Why did you do it, Sam?" John asked, blatantly.

Anger immediately soared to Sam's face and it turned bright red. "Oh, so now you care? Now you want to have a heart-to-heart with me?"

"I'm trying here, Sammy." John rubbed a large hand over his face and sighed loudly.

"Well, maybe I don't want you to try. And by the way, it's Sam," Sam stated, eyes darting to where Dean had just open the door, and stood silent in the doorway, each hand holding a cup of steaming coffee. "Where were you before this happened? Did you ever care before now? Oh, yeah, you were too busy screaming and hitting me to notice your son was trying to kill himself!"

John stood up so fast the chair he had been sitting in slid backwards across the floor and slammed into the near wall. His hands had formed fist and his face was bright red. "Sam Winchest-"

"Dad! Stop-" Dean ran over in front of his father blocking him from Sam. He set down the two coffees on a mobile table and put his hands up. "Stop, now. Before this gets out of hand."

Sam had tears streaming down his face. Ignoring Dean's concerned looks, he was looking past him at his father, glaring.

John took a deep breath before speaking. "Tomorrow we are leaving this place. They are starting to ask questions about insurance. Be ready a five a.m."

"Dad, I don't think Sam is ready to-" Dean started, but stopped dead when John gave him a daring look.

"That's an order," John stated, and walked towards the door.

Sam turned over in the bed, sobbing and Dean stood there looking down at his baby brother as the door clicked shut.

A/N Please review. It makes my day.


	8. Knife

A/N Hello readers :D Ok, so, I was looking over my stories and I realized that in all my other SPN stories, John is awesome. But in this one, as you guys can tell, he is a jerk. I'm very sorry if this offends anyone. I honestly think John is a great father, but for this story it just fits for me to make him a jerk..for now :) I am warning you this chapter might be shocking, but I actually have chapter 9 already written so you will not have to wait long before finding out what happens next. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Dean stood over his brother for a while, watching him, unsure of what to say. A couple of times he would push Sam's bangs out of his face, wipe Sam's tears away and hand him a tissue, which Sam accepted gratefully. He kept a shaking, but comforting hand on his baby brother's shoulder. Sam leaned into his brother's touch, but his sobbing stayed constant.

The inevitable desire to cut kept up its nagging constant. Sam needed his knife. The one that had started it all. The beautiful, powerful knife that had almost succeeded in giving Sam what he wanted. Sam knows he needs to cut again, and he won't be able to break through this feeling. Sam knows how much Dean cares about him, but he needs this. Maybe not to end it all, but at least to give him that satisfaction of feeling the glorious blade slide across his skin and take all his problem with it.

Dean didn't feel bad for his father in the least bit. He deserved the harsh words Sam had spoken to him. It was strange and maybe a huge step for John to actually try to show that he cared, but Dean could see right through it. His father had hit Sam, which was unacceptable and had probably set off Sam's emotions. Which resulted in him trying to take his own life. It was too much for Dean; the thought of loosing Sammy. He means too much to him. Dean couldn't help but feel a bit bad for his father. He had lost his wife, which took over his life, and now he had almost lost his son.

"Sammy?" Dean questioned, gently using his hand to turn Sam toward him.

Sam sniffled and slowly turned over to look at his brother through tear filled eyes. Tear stains are streaked down his face, his eyes bloodshot and red, and his bottom lip was quivering.

"Did you do this because of dad?" Dean asked quietly, a little afraid of the answer.

Sam ran his small hand over his face to wipe some of the tears away.

"I don't want to talk about it," Sam whispered, and attempted to roll back over, but is stopped by Dean's hand on his arm.

"Hey, don't treat me like dad, Sam. Talk to me," Dean demanded.

"Dean-"

"No. You know I care. I care about you, Sam. You can't keep this to yourself, dude. Sorry, but you're gonna have to talk."

"He was a part of it," Sam said, bluntly.

"What-?"

"Dad..He was a part of it. I hate this, Dean. I hate the way we live and dad..Dad hating me just makes it that much worse."

"He doesn't hate-"

"Dean," said Sam, cutting his brother off. "You wanted me to talk, so let me finish."

"Ok, Sam."

"I hate our live, Dean. I don't want to be stuck in this constant war forever. I understand that dad wants to avenge mom. Believe me, I do too. But I want more than that. I want a normal life. I want to go to college, get a career, maybe a wife one day. I can't do those things in this family..And I know that. But honestly, I don't see any other way out then this." Sam lifted up his arms, eyeing the bandages, gesturing what he meant. "Its the only thing that take the pain away for a while. I can't live this life. I hate it, Dean."

Dean stared at Sam for a long time after he finished speaking. A silent staring contest. Not knowing what to do, Dean suddenly reached forward and pulled his baby brother into a hug.

"It will get better, Sammy," Dean stated. "It will. I don't know how or when, but I promise it will."

Caught off guard and unsure of what to say, Sam sank into his brother's arms and returned the hug. Dean is so important to Sam and he trust him with his life, but he can't shake the feeling that this war his family is in will never end.

"Get some sleep, Sammy. We have to leave soon," Dean said, releasing Sam and sinking into the chair behind him. He grabbed the cup of now-cold coffee and took a sip of it, with the intention of staying awake to watch over his little brother.

Sam gave a small smile, and rolled over, away from Dean. Eyes wide open and staring at the wall in front of him, he decided that he needs the knife once more.

* * *

Dean awoke in an uncomfortable chair. Looking up, he immediately recognized his surroundings. The motel room. The one Sammy had tried too.. _How did I get here? Where's Sammy? Where's dad? _

The room was completely dark, but the dim light coming from the parking lot outside made the room's features visible. Dean suddenly notices the room is freezing cold. Shivering, he stands up and stretches.

"Sam?" He calls out, into the dark. Nothing, but silence answers him.

Standing uncomfortably cold in the room, he looks around; at his and Sam's bed, dad's bed, the kitchen table.

"I'm sorry, Dean," A voice whispers from the shadows.

Dean immediately recognizes the voice. "Sammy?"

Suddenly, Dean can see everything, as if a bright light had just began shining into the room.

Scanning the newly lit surroundings quickly, his eyes finally rest on a figure standing in between the end of the beds and the dresser. Sam. Sam with a gun against his head.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam repeats. Closing his eyes, he pulls the trigger.

"SAMMY! NO!"

A/N Please review!


	9. Nightmare

A/N Hello readers :D thank you so much for a the reviews follows and favorites on the last chapter :) you guys are awesome and I can't tell you how much it means to me and how much I appreciate it. After leaving the last chapter the way I did, I didn't want to wait to post this one :) so..Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing :(

"NO! SAM!" Dean arched his back, screaming.

Dean was sleeping in the chair next to Sam's hospital bed when Sam woke to him yelling his name.

He had been screaming for awhile now and Sam was at the point of freaking out. Dean looks terrified. As if he is in more pain than he has ever felt before.

"Dean! Dean, wake up!" Sam begs, moving his legs out from under the covers and reaching towards his brother.

Suddenly, a nurse burst into the room and Sam turns to unintentionally glare at her.

"Is everything ok in here?!" She asks.

"It's fine. My brother is having a nightmare," Sam states, but the nurse stays put, staring. "Get out!" Sam yells, harshly, immeadiately regretting it when the small female nurse stomps out of the room.

Turning back towards Dean, Sam notices the beads of sweat racing off his brother forehead and that his breathing is fast and harsh.

"Dean! It's ok! Wake up! Dean!" Sam pleads, shaking his brother by the shoulders.

Suddenly, Dean eyes burst open. The fear in them fade almost instantly when his wild eyes land on Sam.

"Sammy?!" Dean yells. "You're ok?!"

"Of course De-" Sam starts, but Dean is not listening. He has had enough.

The nightmare pushed him over the edge. This is Sam. The one person that he cares the most about in his life. This is Sam threatening Sam's life. Nothing should be bad enough that Sam would choose to leave Dean and everything, forever.

"You want to die, Sammy?!"

"Dean, calm-"

"No! Fuck that, man," Dean stated, ramming his fist in to the wall next to him, making Sam jump. "You want to end it all? Then fine, we'll do it together because there is no damn way your leaving me in this hell. I know I'm a selfish bastard, but I don't care." Dean's face is an angry red and his eyes clearly show pain. "Your not doing this alone because I won't let you. So you choose then. You want to end it? I have enough bullets for the both of us."

"Dean. Please stop. Don't say that," Sam said, tears running down his face.

"You're my little brother, Sammy, and I'll always be there to protect you but this..I can't protect you from..From youself. I can't beat the hell out of and kill what's hurting when it's you causing it. If you go down, I go down. You don't like it? Get over it. Your stuck with me, Sam." Dean ran a shaking hand thorugh his hair before contiuing. "Just please promise me that next time you feel..whatever your feeling, that you will come to me. Before you do anything, please, please just come to me. I don't care what time it is or where we are or if I'm pissed at you, you come get me. I will take care of you, understand? The best that I can, Sammy. Promise me."

Sam's eyes were wide open and evetually he slowly nodded. Of course he did, because he knows that he is too important to Dean to do anything else but agree.

"Ok," Sam agreed.

"Thank you. Thank you, Sammy," Dean praised. By now, Dean breathing has slowed to a normal level. The horrid feelings from his nightmare are still lingering, but Sam's promise quickly eases the pain.

A/N Let me know what you thought of what Dean said to Sam. Please Review!


	10. Escape

Hello readers :D ok guys, here we are at the last chapter :D Thank you so much to the amazing people who read, followed, favoured and reviewed this story. You guys seriously mean the world to me. There is a little surprise for you guys at the end of this :D please review and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing

John arrives at the hospital at exactly 4:45 in the morning. He had gone to the motel and gathered all of their belongings earlier before returning to the hospital to pick up his boys.

When he walks into Sam's room, the sight before him stops him in his tracks; Dean is on Sam's hospital bed lying propped up against the pillows with Sam lying in front of him with his back against Dean's chest. Sam is nestled in his brothers arms and his chest is slowly rising and falling. John takes notice that both his boys look completely content in each others arms. And from that moment John has no doubt that no matter what happens, Dean will always be there to take care of his Sam. John's eyes start to tear up and he clears his throat and stands up straight as if someone was watching him.

Walking over to the bed, he grabs Dean's shoulder with his large hand and gently shakes it.

"Dean. Dean, wake up," John demands, watching as his eldest son yawns and slowly opens his eyes.

"Dad?" Dean questioned, looking up at his father through tired eyes.

"Yeah, we have to go now," John states.

Dean rubs his eyes and slowly begins to remove himself from under Sam.

"I need you to distract the nurse at the nurses station," John says quietly, as he starts removing Sam's IV and unhooking him from the machines he is attached too.

"What should I do?" Dean asks, stretching.

"I don't know, son. Just talk to them or ask them to show you where something is. I just need to get Sam to the elevators and then meet me in the parking lot."

"Ok, dad." Dean walks out of the room with a mischievous look on his face and John can't help but laugh at his son.

"Sam, wake up," John requests, softly shaking his youngest, who was moaning and becoming restless, probably due to a nightmare.

_Dean was lying in a pool of his own blood on the floor of a dusty dilapidated farmhouse. 'Wasn't I a good enough brother for you Sammy?' Sam felt his chest tighten. 'I did the best I could. Dad did the best he could. I … I … lo … loved you Sammy.' Tears began to roll down Sam's cheeks. 'Why would you do this to me? Why? You left me. No one was there to watch my back. You killed me!'_

_Sam couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't breath. Oh God, his brother was gone. Dean; his constant, his rock, his best friend and his protector._

He opened his eyes and peered wildly around. He couldn't make out where he was. A horrible cough shook his whole aching body. Calming familiar hands were rubbing his back gently as he tried to gain composure.

"Deep breaths, Sammy. Come on now."

Sam was having trouble focusing on his surroundings. "Dean?' he asked hopefully.

"No. It's me, son."

"Dad? Where's Dean?" Sam immediately asks, breath coming in short gasps.

John ignored the pain in his chest that came from hearing that statement. Sam was his baby boy yet when in need he called for Dean, not him. It was how John had trained them, to protect each other. But, at times like these John wished that their lives could have been different. That it would be he who Sam cried out for, he who Sam needed. But he couldn't change the past.

"It's okay Sammy. I'm here. Just concentrate on breathing."

Sam did, unsure of why his father was being so nice to him. But if Dad says everything is okay, then it must be. He never liked following his father's orders without explanation but he still trusted the old man.

Sam's breathing finally began to settle down ,but the pain from the nightmare still remained.

"Come on, son. We have to go," John said, giving Sam a small smile.

Sam returned the smile and began to wonder if everything was going to be different now. If him and his father will get along. If everything will be ok.

* * *

Looking both ways, John eased the Impala out of the hospital's parking lot, turning left. Dean's distraction had been a success and John had easily escaped the hospital with Sam.

John takes a quick glance at Sam in the backseat, before returning his eyes to the road. Dean is in the front seat next to John and both boys are sound asleep. Sam has his forehead pressed uncomfortably against the window pane, fogging up the glass with every slow, steady breath.

Feeling his eyelids weighing down, John decides that they will stop at the next motel, before continuing the trip to Bobby's house. Earlier he told the boys they are going there to take a little rest from hunting. He figures that Sam can use the rest and John needs to make sure that he is mentally stable before hunting again, but he doesn't tell the boys that. Heading down the lonely road at 6:00 in the morning, he prays that he can find a motel with vacancy.

Looking back at his youngest once more, John suddenly notices something in the corner of his eyes. Before he has a chance to consider stopping, the car impacts with a large figure in the middle of the road causing the car to swerve off to the side of the road, impacting with a tree.

The force takes John's breath away as his seat belt pulls sharply against his chest, most likely leaving a sickening bruise beneath it. As his head collides with the steering wheel he only has one thing on his mind as the blackness takes over. _Sammy._

The end.

A/N Ok guys please don't hate me :D good news though! I am starting a sequel to this story and the first chapter of it will be up tonight or tomorrow. Please let me know what you hope to see in the sequel and what you thought of the ending to And so it is!

**And there it was (Sequel to And so it is)- After being involved in a car accident John and Dean wake up to find Sam gone. It is up to them to find him before it's too late.**


	11. Author's Note

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hello Readers :D I just want to thank you again so much for all the reviews, follows and favorites on this story. You guys are seriously amazing! This story means a lot to me and the fact that you guys actually liked it makes me so happy! I just wanted to let you know that the sequel to this story has been posted! The title is "And so it was"! The second chapter was posted today and the third will be up tonight or tomorrow :D Thank you guys!


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